


Family

by zenonaa



Series: LGBT Pride Month [30]
Category: Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope's Peak High School, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc
Genre: F/F, Other, lgbt pride month
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-06-02 10:59:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19440082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zenonaa/pseuds/zenonaa
Summary: '“Disguises conceal identities. Disguises are a facade,” said Polaris. “What if being Polaris was not something to wear, but the identity concealed?”'





	Family

**Author's Note:**

> I want to note that I headcanon Togami here as being genderfluid, but it can also be read as her being a trans woman!

Polaris slowly dragged the brush through blonde hair, staring at the vintage handheld mirror poised in one hand. She sat with her back straight at her desk as she carried out the repetitive movement, over and over and over again. 

The door to her room opened and a twist of her wrist allowed her a glimpse of the visitor through the mirror. Aloysius shut the door behind himself before approaching with a tray. Without needing to see, Polaris knew Aloysius brought a cup of luwak coffee and a slice of single layered cake flavoured with cinnamon. After all, that was what she ordered. 

She set the mirror onto the desk, reflective side facing down, and steepled her fingers.

“As you specified,” Aloysius stated as he put the tray down. An answer came in the form of a nod from Polaris. “Do you require anything else, young master?”

“That will be all.”

At this point, Aloysius usually bowed and left. He had done that when Polaris was five, when Polaris was twelve and he still did it to this day. The apartment always had things that needed dusting and there were always errands that needed doing. However, Aloysius lingered. His presence felt like a firm hand on Polaris’s shoulder, even though Aloysius didn’t have a single finger on her.

“Young master,” broached Aloysius, “I’ve noticed you haven’t had your hair cut for a while.”

No one else apart from her girlfriend, Touko, would have noticed how slightly Polaris tensed.

“I haven’t?” Polaris said quietly. She placed a hand over the handle of her mirror, though she didn’t pick it up. The tray on the desk remained untouched.

“Indeed. It is almost at your shoulders.” Aloysius peered down at her, his face frustratingly neutral. His tone stayed light and monotone. “I recall when you were younger, your hair reached down most of your back and your mother insisted you wear it in a ponytail or braid.”

In the digital age and with a butler such as Aloysius, several photographs of Polaris with longer hair still existed. None were hung up or framed in her apartment. A painting she bought at an auction was pinned up by the front door, and a photograph of herself with her living former classmates sat tucked in a back corner of her desk.

Polaris picked up the mirror and turned it over to look at her reflection.

“So it has,” she remarked, touching her hair with her other hand, sounding like Yasuhiro hadn’t commented on this fact recently. As in earlier that day.

“It became quite long before you cut it. That was just after you were chosen to be the heir to the conglomerate, wasn’t it?” said Aloysius, just as redundant.

“... I thought it appropriate. A fresh cut to signal the next stage of my life,” replied Polaris with her clear blue eyes fixed on her reflection.

“Are you thinking of growing it out again?” asked Aloysius.

Polaris’s reflection blinked. Glancing back, she noticed Aloysius studying the unreadable mask that Polaris had positioned her face into.

“Perhaps,” said Polaris vaguely, and she heard Aloysius clear his throat.

“If what I say next is presumptuous, feel free to ignore or reprimand me, but I think long hair would suit you well,” said Aloysius. He was met with silence, and after a pause in which Polaris presumed he bowed, Aloysius headed for the door.

When it creaked, Polaris spoke up.

“Pennyworth. Wait a moment.”

Aloysius stopped. Polaris didn’t elaborate or do much of anything after the moment she requested from him, but Aloysius postponed his exit anyway. He wouldn’t have been able to see Polaris’s face as she had her back to him, and he wouldn’t have seen Polaris’s reflection either from where he stood, yet she still made sure to keep her features smooth.

“Suppose...” After one word, Polaris trailed off, but after several seconds, she resumed. “... that I did grow my hair longer. As long as it once was. What would you think?”

“I would think your hair was longer, young master.”

Polaris rolled her shoulders and straightened her back. Her head didn’t turn. She felt her heart beat faster, but she didn’t let it crack her mask.

“Do you recall that shortly before I cut my hair, I disguised myself as Polaris P Polanski?” said Polaris.

“I do,” replied Aloysius.

“A girl.”

“Yes.”

Polaris adjusted her hold on the mirror’s ornate handle.

“So... suppose I was to be Polaris again,” she said.

“As a disguise?” asked Aloysius slowly, and Polaris swallowed.

“Not exactly,” she said. The back of her neck prickled. “No, actually. Really, it would be the opposite of that.”

Aloysius’s tone pitched slightly with curiosity. “The opposite?”

Polaris moistened her lips as subtly as she could. 

“Yes. Disguises conceal identities. Disguises are a facade,” said Polaris. “What if being Polaris was not something to wear, but the identity concealed?”

In those seconds that followed, crawling past in a sludge of an atmosphere as thick as her tongue felt in her mouth, Polaris barely breathed. In those seconds that heaved, that dragged, her mind went over possibilities already explored, already mapped out in her mind weeks, months, and maybe unconsciously, years prior.

Finally, after a short time, Aloysius spoke.

“Then you would be Polaris,” he said. “You would be a woman, regardless of what you wear on the outside.”

Polaris stroked the grooves and bumps in her mirror’s handle with the thumb of the hand holding it. She didn’t speak again right away, her brow furrowed as she stirred through her thoughts.

“What do you think Fukawa would say?” Polaris asked. When she didn’t receive a response as swiftly as she liked, she craned her neck over her shoulder.

Aloysius gave a small, sad smile.

“I don’t think that is something I can answer,” Aloysius told her. “That is something only she can tell you.”

That didn’t do anything to relieve the tension in Polaris’s face, or in her chest, or in her hard stare and pursed lips.

“But if Fukawa-san is worthy of you, then her feelings for you will not waver or disappear,” Aloysius told Polaris. “If she does not understand but wants to, she will make an effort to.”

Polaris’s throat felt tight. She felt her mask start to slip. Crumble. Usually, Polaris felt comfortable being open with Aloysius, but this time, she turned away before Aloysius could see the remnants on her face.

“Right. That’s all,” said Polaris quickly, standing up with her heartbeat between her ears, and then, without warning, Aloysius swooped on her and enveloped her in a tight hug.

“I am sure Fukawa-san will remain by your side, but regardless, I will be there for you,” murmured Aloysius, and Polaris stiffened, eyes wide, but then she slowly relaxed into the embrace.


End file.
